Forging Middle Ground
by TwasSuchAPity
Summary: PostFC. AU-ish. Kaeha Malik has attracted unwanted attention from Erik Lehnsherr who desires to recruit her and from Charles Xavier who desires her friendship and companionship. Thus, Kaeha stays not merely because she needs all the help she can get; but because she believes she can mend their broken bridges. Or, at the very least, enjoy her stay in a luxurious mansion. [Erik/OC]
1. What Do You Need?

Bright fluorescent lights glare into yearning hazel eyes trapped behind thick glass. The bruised brunette can feel the gentle tugging of energy that calls out to her. However, she knows better than to fall to temptation or her typical self-destructive defiance.

Her earlier failed attempts already caused the smell of her burning flesh to permeate the holding cell. Kaeha weakly glares at the manacles curled around her ankles and wrists. The infernal devices are a form of an energy inverter that made her mutation a double-edged blade than salvation.

_I'll destroy them all, I swear it._ She vows mentally.

Her keen senses, dulled marginally by captivity, picks up the quiet creak of a door. Muscles inevitably lock up to brace for an oncoming burst of energy. Her captors were fond of seeing her thrash and scream until she passed out once the scientific experiments got tiresome.

Her sheer will always forced them to use enormous bursts of energy to elicit even the smallest reaction. So, Kaeha looks up to glare defiantly at her tormentors only to blink in confusion. Despite her vision being warped by the thick glass, she still recognized the slender blonde standing before her.

Catherine Evans; the only researcher that blatantly refused to intentionally inflict harm upon Kaeha and instead tended to some of her more severe wounds secretly. Catherine glances over her thin shoulder before back to Kaeha and forms hand signs for_ Silence. Danger. Wait._

Brows furrow in concentration as she offers a slight yet wincing nod due to her broken neck clavicle. Catherine stoically mirrors the motion before striding over to the flashing controls and commences a system override. Kaeha's eyes widen when realizes what the researcher has done seconds before the glass wall sinks back into the floor and the bonds pinning her to the wall retract. Drugged limbs crash to the floor in a messy heap and she gasps when energy slams into her neglected form.

_Well now, that was unexpected. And painful. _She muses dryly.

Her head spins wildly from the unexpected surge of adrenaline fueling her veins. However, Catherine deigns a second to recover her breath is unnecessary and instead grabs her shoulders and hauls Kaeha to her feet. The world meshes into a whirl of colors but she handles it better this time. Her wounds are still present and jarring her concentration with spikes of pain but she can feel her skin knitting back together. Good. She hated the sight of her arms riddled with needle marks.

"We don't have much time. They intend to start on the children tomorrow." Catherine hisses into her ear.

Kaeha takes a moment to appreciate the righteous anger in the pacifist's voice before snapping back into focus.

"What do you need?" She hoarsely questions.

"My associates are freeing the children but they are all weak from the drugs. I need you to remove _any_ and _every_ obstacle." Catherine stoically replies.

The brunette looks at her with a level gaze before tapping into her mutation and reaches out to pick up all forms of life. Thrumming dots of light fill the three-dimensional mental view of the confidential facility she was held in. The children with a mildly different energy wavelength from their mutations cluster about at a lower level of the building.

"Are you certain?" Kaeha murmurs once she picks up on the militant staff heavily guarding the children.

Despite her concern, the energy user is already running through a series of battle plans. Judging by their weight and gait, the guards are hefty. She had to be sure to generate enough electricity to knock them out. Catherine nods and tightens her grip around Kaeha's shoulders.

"I'm sure." She answers, her voice neither wavering nor faltering.

The brunette steps out from Catherine's grip and turns towards the door after Catherine is tugged behind her. She would ensure no harm would befall the kind researcher. Concentration sweeps across her face as eyebrows narrow and chapped lips form a taut line. Slowly, but surely, pure, unadulterated energy crackles along her knuckles before folding into multiple orbs of lethal power.

Now, the alarms start to blare in shrill wails and Catherine berates herself for being careless. The room was embedded with energy sensors directly wired to the alarm system she forgot to disarm. Kaeha, however, ignores her rant by focusing on filling the room with small, dangerous orbs of electricity. Feet thunder into harried action as muffled barks of orders echo beyond the thin walls.

_It's now or never._

Kaeha takes in a deep breath before emptying her mind of her conscience and emotions and just_ lets go_.

* * *

Charles quietly wheels himself down a darkened hallway and smiles to himself at the steady thrum of unconscious minds around him. The only active mind besides his is Hank who's busy toiling away at Cerebro and her recent errors. Rolling to a halt by the window, Charles gazes out at the sprawling lawn and absently brushes his immobile legs. The gesture is slowly forming into a habit and each time it happens, Erik flashes through his mind.

"I believe I miss him." Charles mutters to himself with a wistful smile reflected against the glass.

Erik may have crossed a few unspoken lines between them but the telepath missed his brilliant mind nonetheless. It was surprising how narrow the world appeared without his friend to constantly challenge and expand his views. However, Charles snaps out of his ruminations when Moira's familiar mind suddenly surges into life within his.

_Moira, please, _calm_ down._ He telepathically tries to soothe her frantic mind.

Her thoughts are erratic and continuously shifting its focus. All Charles manages to interpret are glimpses about a Californian lab, auburn hair and high-tech cells embedded with tubes of glowing liquid before he reaches a winded Moira. The agent falls into a plush chair and spreads out jumbled folders across an oak table as she gulps down air.

"California. Rogue mutant. Dangerous. Erik." She whispers breathlessly, a thin finger jabbing at separate files with each word.

Cerulean eyes flicker up in interest at the familiar name before settling back on the folder he picked up. He cringes at the gruesome details of experiments conducted on young mutants and visibly flinches at the various photographs.

"What _is _this?" Charles murmurs, face pale with nausea.

Moira graciously pushes aside the gorier documents and instead flips open two. Charles feels his curiosity spike at the picture of a calm brunette gazing at him with serene hazel eyes from a photograph. His attention returns to his companion and he nods silently for her to begin.

"There has been a new unnamed anti-mutant organization. They capture mutants, orphans or those that could be missed, for experimentation with the intention to discover ways to counter their mutations." She explains.

Charles reflexively relays soothing cues to her mind when her voice fluctuates in anger and despair. The agent smiles weakly in reply before continuing.

"A few unlisted laboratories were utilized for their 'cause'. We were in the midst of collecting intel to shut them down until each lab started being blown up one by one." Moira shakes her head in disbelief.

"A mutant." Charles nods in understanding, the brunette's biography now falling into place.

"Erik intends to recruit her." Moira elaborates when Charles opens his mouth to speak.

He laughs in surprise before smiling guiltily. She didn't need to be a telepath to occasionally read his mind. It was either that or the disturbing notion that his thoughts were transparent to the intelligent agent. Slender fingers steeple together as Charles glances through the paltry details of one Kaeha Malik.

"What does this have to do with me? She seems to veer more towards Erik's beliefs." He muses, flicking by photographs of charred ruins and rubble.

For a long moment, Moira merely gazes at the professor in quiet deliberation. Charles refuses to squirm under her piercing stare and settles with glimpsing through Kaeha's file once more.

"Erik runs a high risk of getting hurt if he pursues this alone." She finally answers.

Charles chokes on his breath at the implication.

"You want me to _help _him? You cannot be serious." He sputters in disbelief as fingers grasp his chair hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The simple request seamlessly tossed his normal world into a figurative blender. Moira leans over to gently pry his pale fingers off of the armrests and loosely cradles them in her palm. The broken rules and lines of his world slowly mends itself by centering around the warmth of her calloused skin.

"This is entirely your call, Charles. I would appreciate your help in securing her. I think Erik would appreciate the unwanted help as well." She cajoles with an amused smile.

Erik and she never truly got along and always pounced at every opportunity to spite each other. Charles's lips twitch up to reflect her smile even when the memories of just a few years before cut into emotional scars. Focusing back on the task at hand, Charles contemplates the possible scenarios and outcomes that could occur if he didn't intervene before sighing in resignation.

"What do you need?"

* * *

_**Author Mini Rant:**_

_**Oh my, I can't believe I've actually written an entire chapter. :O**_

_**Alright, so I have a vague idea where I want to go with this but forgive me if there are a few errors and OOC-ness going on. I haven't ironed out all the kinks yet but hopefully I'll actually complete a story and make history. *crosses my fingers***_

_**By the way, please do message me if you notice any grammar errors or typos. I tend to miss those since I'm a derp like that. *rolls out***_


	2. Ruined Plans

Reclining against the bark of a tall, looming fir tree, alert hazel pools survey the grounds below her. There isn't any movement seen outside the crumbling gates save for an errant squirrel. Kaeha, however, senses otherwise.

Invisible waves of heat energy emitted by the people within rolled towards her and sparked her mutation to life. She had to give credit where it was due though. Unlike the other three facilities she 'visited', this one resided many levels underground with the visible building that bordered on ruins used as a decayed mask.

_Sneaky bastards. _Kaeha huffs in annoyance.

She double checks her mental photograph of the structure's layout. Catherine gave her all the information she had access to, which was an amazing amount, before she went into hiding.

Building blueprints, personnel documents and even methods to destroy holding cells with energy blasts filled a thick folder in her neat script. Concentration mars her previously blank face as she stretches her energy sensors to where the lowest level is theoretically at.

Yes, Kaeha feels the unique rhythm of energy flow that only mutants have pulse under her fingertips. A slight grimace mars her face at the chorus of slow, drugged heartbeats. It reminds her of where she was a mere month ago.

For a moment, Kaeha allows herself to long for Catherine's calm, unwavering presence. She sharply erases the notion seconds later. Catherine was never meant to harm or destroy. She was too kind to ever be so inhumane. Then again, neither was Kaeha.

She never once enjoyed the twisted expression of agony or screams of pain that haunted her nights. Despite that, she had a goal to achieve and if that meant she was to forgo some of her ethical beliefs, so be it.

Inching forward along the thick branch, a bronzed hand stretches out, palm facing forward, as her eyes fall shut. She searches through all the power outlets and electrical appliances until she finds the most potent of them all; the generators.

Kaeha forms a mental grasp around the thrumming cores. Her outstretched palms quiver as though she had directly placed her hands upon it. She doesn't clench her fingers yet though. Instead, she waits.

Hours of observation showed that the guards gather around the generators for a few seconds before exchanging places. That would be the best moment to strike. It's a painfully small window of opportunity though so Kaeha only has _one_ chance. She counts down the seconds to the pace of her steady heartbeat.

_Three. Two. One!_

Fingers flex and generators welded at all four levels of the laboratory erupt into a cascade of flames and debris as they cave in or explode. The earth rumbles in protest as her tree shakes thrice from the waves of explosive aftershock. The building starts to fall apart.

Energy curves and solidifies to form an invisible dome that shields the holding area. Rubble safely bounces off the arched surface instead of hurting the mutants. Kaeha fortifies and expands the dome before shifting her focus.

Armed guards spill out the burning doorway like a tipped over bottle of ink. Narrowed eyes dart across the grounds as each counted head causes a new crackling orb of electricity to form in the air.

"Show time." Kaeha murmurs before inhaling deeply.

Once she exhales her breath, coiled muscles spring forward as she jumps off the branch and hurtles down at breakneck speed. Everything after she lands is a blurred whirl of startled screams, stumbling feet and hissing sparks.

* * *

Twin spheres of metal circle above Erik's calloused palm. His slouched back and bored expression creates an air of bored nonchalance around his tall form. Of course, the charade ends at his eyes.

Razor-sharp eyes akin to a frozen silvery lake rake over forest grounds meticulously. If any slight movement possibly slipped by his keen gaze, Azazel perched by his side compensated for it. The teleporter divided his gaze between surveying the area and keeping an eye on the energy mutant.

For three weeks Erik has tracked and chased after the brunette. Each time he finally found her location, Azazel would teleport him over and only to be greeted by burnt detritus and masses of half dead militant.

Her abilities and the methodical way she tore through her enemies piqued Erik's interest. However, approaching her to discuss his ideals or force his ideals down her throat was impossible. She moved too fast.

_I wonder if she's truly worth this much effort._ Erik muses.

Before he could counter the irrational thought with rational ideas for her mutation, the ground trembles violently and splits apart. His footing slips but Erik easily rights himself. He exchanges a look with Azazel who nods and disappears from the top of the tree to reappear beside him with a soft _crack_. He firmly takes hold of Erik's arm and gazes ahead to the center of the explosion.

Erik feels his stomach lurch and the ground disappear as Azazel teleports them away. Sulfur clings to his clothes as booted feet touch the quivering floor once more. The duo landed right in the middle of Kaeha's carnage.

Surprised yells cause Erik to glance over at the men with loaded guns and pale faces. Azazel's unusual appearance caused them to remain rooted in place from fear. He snorts as fingers clench to send the two metal orbs through their thoracic cavities.

As they crumple to the floor, Erik tilts his chin towards the oncoming regiment.

"Take care of them. I'll deal with her." He orders.

Azazel dissipates into wisps of red smoke and flames before methodically executing their obstacles without complaint. Erik slowly treads across the field to the focal point of the battle instead.

Fragments of metal float up to orbit around Erik steadily as a defensive shield He had to crouch behind the sturdy walls of steel that buffered the continuous explosions many times. It slows him down but he reaches her soon enough.

Erik's hand snaps forward to plunge a rod of metal he formed into an assailant that crept up behind Kaeha. The gurgled groan as blood rushes through his throat alerts the energy mutant to his presence.

She swivels around after punching a guard's jaw and sends him sprawling head over heels through the air from the energy she compacted into the attack. Erik ducks in an instinctive move as the soldier sails over his head. Springing back onto his feet, his gaze lifts to hers and Erik's field of vision narrows into twin pools of burning hazel.

He can feel his fingers tremble by his side as her barely restrained energy flows towards him in steady and wary waves. He notes that her head tilts in vague curiosity when her eyes dart to the hovering metal fragments. Erik's instincts tell him that Kaeha hasn't pegged him down as her enemy.

_Yet_. The calm, logical side of his mind points out.

Palms raise in the universal sign of "_I mean you no harm"_ as booted feet slowly take a step forward. Golden flecks in hazel eyes instantly flare up into a glowing ocher at the slight movement. Erik freezes at the familiar sensation of phantom fingers brushing the back of his head.

It felt similar to the way Charles used to gently touch his mind for a telepathic conversation. _Or_ when Charles briefly read his mind.

"Sorry." Kaeha barks in apology.

Erik scarcely had time to hear the second syllable over his confusion before her energy ripples out in waves of heat merged with electricity. A large stream of crackling fire slams into the defensive wall he hastily wrought.

The sheer force, even when he anchors the wall to the Earth's magnetic fields, propels him backwards. Heels dig into the soft ground for additional support only to carve two paths into the surface as he vainly tries to fight the increasing current.

Hands press into the heated metallic surface as Erik _pushes_. Barriers previously formed to ensure his powers didn't spiral out of control lift as the metal wall quivers before turning immobile and his feet stop skidding backwards.

Erik found his anchor. Bracing his shoulder against his shield, he grunts before taking a determined step forward. The effort is wasted though as she reabsorbs the energy and Erik merely stumbles over thin air.

A moment of mindless thought causes him to lower his shield at the exact moment Kaeha launches her next attack. Pale blue eyes widen in disbelief at the log hurtling towards his face. It disassembles into calculated shrapnel of burning wood aimed right at him.

Fingers splay out over the floor before sharply flicking his wrist up. The motion would encase his form in a steel cocoon milliseconds before the flaming splinters could hit him. Well, at least it was _supposed_ to.

A thin yet sturdy web of glowing energy pins all the metal around him down. Erik tries and fails to lift them even an inch off of the ground. Frantically, he tries to reach out for those a few miles away and scowls when they thrum with Kaeha's energy. He's defenseless.

"_Gottverdammt_."

* * *

_**Typical Mini Rant:**_

_**Admittedly, there's not much plot content here but at least they met! Sorta. Kinda. Met-ish. ...I believe I tried. *sighs***_

_**Anyway, based on my assignments and other irrelevant factors -mebeingacompletelazybutt- I'll probably have weekly updates. That seems like ample enough time for me to get my procrastinating bum into gear. xD**_

_**Thank you to those that actually follow this story. You have no idea how happy that made my day like asdfghjkl. *cries manly tears of joy***_


	3. It's Time

Erik is annoyed. He refused to allow himself to succumb to seething rage and instead settled on being supremely vexed. Booted feet storm into his dark room before his heel knocks the heavy door shut. Rough fingers rip off dangling shreds of cotton clinging desperately to his bloodied arm.

His tall form crumples into the solitary high-backed chair in his bare room. Stubborn lips hold back the grunt of mild pain his throat conjured from the motion. However, the momentary stillness caused his anger to surface.

_A log. It was a bloody _log_._ Erik hisses internally.

He expected electricity to sear and paralyze his veins or energy to bombard and explode around him. He did _not_ expect a wooden _log_ to burst into flaming shards that impaled his skin. Teeth bare in an angry scowl at the memory.

The steel bottle of disinfectant floats towards him before tipping to douse his battered skin in cleansing alcohol. Janos had already removed the splinters with an amused grin earlier. Pain sears across the open cuts but Erik barely flinched. No, his mind was more focused on the brunette that bested him.

She fought with a brute carelessness that fooled anyone to think she moved on instinct alone. Erik has the injuries as proof of that underestimation. Kaeha planned and calculated every move without wasting a single motion.

Yes, she didn't have the polished skills of an assassin or a mercenary. There is also the niggling fact that she didn't kill her victims. It made Erik perceive her as a more predatory version of Charles. It made Erik intrigued.

_She outmaneuvered Azazel too._ A quiet mental voice pipes up.

Erik's concentration falters in confusion as the metal needles stitching his wounds shut pause momentarily. He wasn't certain _how_ but she could predict where the teleporter would appear next. There was the brief sensation of her mentally perusing his thoughts as well. Erik assumed she was nothing more than an energy user.

"I should stop belittling this one." He muses, lips twitching briefly.

His attention shifts from the gleaming bottle to the doorway when Erik catches a flash of light in his peripheral. Emma reclines against the sturdy frame in a glittering cascade of diamonds.

"We found the next location. She's heading there." The blonde smirks.

Teeth flash in a dangerous, razor-sharp smile as he waves a hand and the metal threads snap before knotting. Erik rises out of his chair in one fluid motion.

"Let's go." Erik announces.

Tendrils of golden strands weave through the air as Emma stalks out and down the corridor with Erik close behind. Her clicking heels are soon accompanied by Janos's quiet paces and Azazel's cracking sulfur as he materializes. Emma fills their minds with a steady stream of information she pried from the half conscious minds of fallen guards.

Grim resolution cause teeth to grit and fingers to clench as Erik's signature metal orbs trail behind him. The sunlight burns his retinas when the formidable group steps outside.

_This time, I'll be victorious._ Erik vows to himself.

That's the last thought he has before they join hands and dissipate in a whirl of flames and ominous black wisps of smoke.

* * *

For the umpteenth time, Charles wonders if this is a good idea. It's been three days since Moira updated him on Kaeha and her run-in with Erik. Two days since he boarded the helicopter with a persistent Hank and merely one since they landed. Charles has been roaming the vicinity after the quick stop to his cold, sterile quarters.

Now that he was here, away from his students and in the midst of stern-looking agents, Charles starts to doubt his decision. It was an impulsive one after all. The photos of a bleeding Erik and angry slashes marring Azazel's skin made him leave that very night.

_Perhaps I'm too weak._ He muses.

No matter how hard the telepath tries, the slight mention of his friends being harmed and he abandons isolation to aid them. It wasn't done out of a selfless sense of justice.

Charles does what he does because he _cares_ and caring was starting to gnaw on his worn nerves. He was seconds away from initiating a mental pity party when Moira rounds the corner.

Judging by the annoyed look on her face, the last combat plan meeting just concluded. Propelling himself forwards, he quickly catches up to the harried agent. She silently presses a crumpled slip of paper into his palms. After months of Moira abruptly shoving plates of food or cups of tea into his hands, Charles doesn't fumble.

Eyebrows knot in confusion at the crudely drawn map in creased ink. It takes him a few moments but he pieces the clusters of red dots and X's together easily enough. It was an estimated range of Kaeha, Erik and Charles from the vile laboratory.

Charles and his small encampment was a few miles away from the underground facility. Kaeha was much closer, bordering the edges of the guard-infested grounds. Erik and his team have spread out to flank Kaeha's four corners a distance away.

"They haven't approached her. Has she sensed them?" Charles questions curiously.

"We believe so. She certainly sensed us at least." Moira mutters, reaching out telepathically for his mind.

Charles tethers their minds together before viewing the image she projected. The mental vision shows one of her friends - Kyle - and his dejected face as he cradles the mangled lucky charm he always carried. The hair on the miniature doll was singed off completely.

Inevitable chortles tumble past his lips which causes Moira to send a sharp gaze his way. Charles is barely rebuffed since she's desperately trying to stifle her own derisive laughter. The duo had spent hours terrifying Kyle with plans of tormenting said ridiculous toy.

_I like her._ Charles thinks wistfully.

Her sense of humor was prominent and Charles admires the humane way she handled the inhumane men and women whom tortured the children. Tucking away the spark of hope for a peaceful meeting with her, the telepath focuses on the present. Moira gently squeezes his shoulder before merging into the sea of mobilized agents a few feet away.

Hank occupies her empty spot instead and flashes a watery smile. Gazing around the compound together, both Charles and Hank can acknowledge what's about to happen. It's about time for their confrontation with Erik and Kaeha.

"Are you ready for this?" Hank quietly asks.

A smile curves his lips as Charles takes a second to appreciate the underlying question. _Do you want to sit out of this?_ Hank was always perceptive and would rather be the one firing the gun instead of Charles whose hands would shake. Blue fur has already started to appear on his face and forearms as grim hazel eyes flicker into gold. Taking in a breath, Charles dips his head in a curt, resigned nod.

"I'm not, honestly, but I can't keep running away."

Hank mirrors his nod and silently escorts Charles to the revving Jeep filled with Moira and the other agents calmly organizing their ranks into defensive positions. They clamber aboard and with a sharp bark of command, the camp that's partially dismantled slowly fades into the distance.

Its time.

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant:_**

**_I struggled with this so much. I really couldn't figure out how to piece this together and I'm not too pleased with it honestly. *sighs*_**

**_I apologize if it's a tad draggy but I'll try to up the pace a little~ And to those that favorite, follow or even gave this story a view; BLESS YOU. C': *flings cookies everywhere*_**


	4. A Good Man

Slender fingers caked in grime and dried blood clench as another embedded energy orb explodes. The ground trembles as a gaping hole is punched into three cement floors. The slight pinpricks of life energy slowly fade off; her enemies were downsized to half. Kaeha has no time to revel in her success though.

Her fingers shake as she slowly vaporizes thin spokes of polymer hooked into the spine of a child no older than seven. He had a healing factor which the scientists were brutally testing the limits of. Anger and nausea bubbles up in her throat. The poor boy bleakly stared at her with eyes that said he'd rather be dead.

_Focus_. Kaeha mutters, quivering fingers swiping at the blood dripping into her eye.

She didn't have the energy to spare to accelerate her healing. The unease Kaeha felt since she kicked down the entrance door has yet to leave. Her instincts were never wrong which only made the energy user jittery. Finally, the child is freed and she gently cradles his limp hand.

Nerves try to muddle her concentration but Kaeha stubbornly ignores it. She doesn't teleport people often since to disassemble and reassemble a person's molecules over long distances wasn't _quite_ her forte.

At least this time she only has to manage five floors.

_You can do this_. She consoles.

Reaching towards the energy threads that bind his molecules together, Kaeha slowly memorizes the unique pattern. Lips part to inhale a shaky breath before she snaps each link apart. Dull green eyes widen and the child gasps at the unusual weightless sensation. Kaeha grips his hand tighter as his grubby feet start to disappear in minuscule flashes of light.

_Trust me._ She gently whispers into his mind.

He offers a weak squeeze in reply before Kaeha's palm folds around empty air. Her mind echoes with a determined _Got him!_ as the boy safely materializes in his friend's arms. She tracks their escape to safety before warily peeking out into the hallway.

The void space allows her tense muscles to relax by a fraction. For once, she steered clear from close combat. A glimpse of the glowing liquid in bullet pellets caused her to be on edge.

Her eyes glaze over briefly as she accesses her thermal radar. Her jaw drops in surprise at the sudden addition of four mutant life forms. Two of them were familiar from barely a week ago: the angry Sasquatch and the Crimson Flash.

"_Abso-fucking-lutely._" She growls, fingers angrily wringing an imaginary neck.

Clawed fingers cease in mid-air at the invasive sensation of invisible fingers scraping the back of her mind. Mental walls instantly slam into place and she smiles sadistically to herself. The recoil would surely cause a migraine for the telepath with Sasquatch.

Anxiety doubles in her gut from the mind reader's attempts. She loathed mental intrusions. Forcing a breath through pursed lips, Kaeha stealthily fires two streams of electricity at the row of incoming guards. She can't afford to be delicate any longer. Driven by the desire to leave, Kaeha races through crumbling hallways towards the back of the building.

She wires the multiple bombs planted around the building borders to the quartet's unique energy patterns. True enough, they detonate in a fiery cacophony when Sasquatch's posse try to chase after her. Their telepath had to be strong to still detect her even with the walls in her mind concealing all brain activity.

Legs pump faster as her strides lengthen. Kaeha skids around a corner and runs down a dead end hallway. Electricity forms two coiling whips around her palms before she lashes it against the brick and concrete barrier. It crumbles apart like a frail wall of rice paper, warm sunlight streaming through. The surface beneath her feet melts into barren grass instead of cold concrete and dank corridors.

The first thing Kaeha does is immobilize the Crimson Flash. She senses the next gathering of his molecules before slamming enough electricity into his system to knock him out for the entire day.

"Sorry." She mutters, wincing at the heavy _thump_ as he falls.

Her infernal luck hounds after her though. Biting winds suddenly swirl around her in the form of an angry whirlwind. She yelps in surprise before the air body slams into her, lifting the energy user up in dizzying cartwheels. Her concentration is frayed before eyelids slide shut to prevent the view of a spinning world from addling her mind.

A palm splays out and energy sensors spread out until she hones on the mutant's signature. Flames erupt to life from her fingertips before slicing through the gaps of wind to crash into him. Kaeha catches a flutter of charred silk as he topples over, relatively unharmed and mostly overwhelmed by the innate fear of fire.

Lips bite back an angry groan when the tornado abruptly ceases to exist and Kaeha gets intimate with the forest floor _painfully_. She mentally summons a burst of energy to propel her back onto unsteady feet.

A clenched fist opens in a sharp, jerking motion. The hidden vehicle two miles away suddenly jolts to life as the engines rev noisily. Kaeha sways, nearly trips over a rock, but rights herself and continues her mad dash.

Thankfully, Sasquatch and his telepath were still distracted by her implanted explosives. Her head feels groggy from the stamina strain but she perseveres. She's so _close_ to being home-free.

But, of course, she never makes it.

* * *

Pale fingers turn an unearthly white as Charles grips onto his wheelchair for dear life. Mud and debris rain down on him and his companions in a violent shower. At least Charles was safely tucked away in a hidden corner.

Hank is a blue blur bulldozing his way through mercenaries with guns as Moira flanks his side. Their minds are slightly shaken yet steady. Clearly, no one was expecting Kaeha to cause this magnitude of destruction. Worry ebbs into his veins. Vague resentment towards his crippled legs clog his throat before Charles forcibly swallows it down.

This was no time for depreciating self-pity.

Fingers reach up to brush his temple in his reflexive gesture for accessing his mutation. Charles searches through the sea of chaotic minds for Kaeha in grim dedication. His lips twitch briefly when he skims past Erik's and Emma's aggravated minds. Kaeha had strung up an obstacle that neither metal nor mental willpower could overcome.

Focusing on the task at hand, he reaches further only to blink in surprise. Charles can't sense her. Raising his dropped jaw back into place, Charles concentrates harder and does a more in-depth mental sweep. Emma's mind is closed off to him this time but the results are still the same: Kaeha is untraceable.

_Was all this for nothing?_ He wonders bitterly.

Teeth grit as determined stubbornness fuels his veins and Charles searches for her once, twice, thrice more. Finally, on his fourth attempt, he catches a glimpse of her mind before it fades into a blank abyss once more. It takes him a few seconds to piece it together. His reaction is disbelief quickly followed by amusement and the exhilarating thrill of a challenge.

_Of _course_, she's shutting me out._ He realizes in elation.

Silencing the rapid thoughts of curiosity, Charles tries to get a proper grip on her mind to initiate a telepathic conversation. Her mind flickers into existence every so often as she battled Janos and Azazel only to disappear once again.

Charles quickly realizes accessing her mind is a dead end and tries a different approach. Fingers gently press harder against his temple as he catches the brief crack in her mental walls. Hoping for the best, he forms a projection of himself that coalesces a few feet in front of Kaeha.

The teetering brunette skids to an abrupt halt as she reels back, bright flames and electricity sparking to life in her palms defensively. Charles remains absolutely still and merely implores her to be calm with an openly pleading gaze. She reminds him of a cornered Erik or Alex; sudden movements would do more damage than good.

As an after thought, Charles drops the barriers around his mind and bares his intentions. He knows she isn't a telepath but deep-rooted instincts urged him to do so. Thankfully, it works. The whirl of flaming sparks slowly dissipate.

Kaeha glances over her bleeding shoulder before facing Charles with a strong yet calm gaze. Her mental walls still thrum with hostility but she nods sharply for him to speak.

"My names is Charles Xavier. I'm a mutant - a telepath, to be exact." Charles calmly states.

His curiosity spikes when golden flecks embedded in her eyes briefly glimmer. Charles had noticed the quick flash of amber when her mutation activated but that slow simmer of ocher felt different.

"You don't fight." She announces in a voice that left no room for argument.

"Not unless I absolutely have to, yes." He hesitantly replies.

He had calculated a multitude of scenarios that could possibly occur. This unusual flow in their conversation wasn't one of them. The small, apologetic smile she offers is completely unexpected too.

"You're a good man, Charles, but I can't stay." Kaeha cryptically confesses.

Her eyes shift over her shoulder as she says it. Charles blinks, surprised and flummoxed. Despite the havoc of rubble and keeling men, Kaeha is staring right at the seated telepath miles away. Chapped lips part to utter a question only to let out a sharp exhale of alarm.

The duo were so absorbed in their dance between enemy and ally that they failed to notice the limping guard and his armed gun. His presence was only detected when the gun is fired and Kaeha's arm is doused in luminescent green. Her face pales and she instantly retaliates by firing an orb of raw energy. The man sails through the air, only landing yards away.

Charles's mind is filled with a string of French curses which startles him back to attention. Her mental barriers are gone. He reaches out to Kaeha's mind to warn her only to experience the lethal stab of pain in her consciousness.

Hazel irises roll back as booted feet stumble a step forward before Kaeha crashes into the floor. Annoyance and irk prickles across his skin as Charles stubbornly wheels himself towards her crumpled form. Only one person could have executed that move without causing brain damage.

_Emma._

* * *

_**Usual Mini Rant:**  
_

_**I know I'm late and I sincerely apologize for that. QwQ**_

_**Nonetheless, here we are! Charles has finally met Kaeha and now the hissy fit of righteous justice shall commence~ I admit, there's not much interaction between Kaeha and Erik but give it time. Erik isn't easy after all. *grins like a loon***_


	5. Your Offer?

Wheels catch on cracked ground and jagged rocks which jostles Charles uncomfortably but he stubbornly pushes forward. Incensed thoughts jumble his mind in an irked haze as he watches Erik stalk towards the fallen Kaeha. It briefly pauses when Hank reaches out for his mind; emptying it to better establish their telepathic bond.

_Charles, I don't like this. _He mutters distractedly.

His concern was valid. After all, Charles was heading straight for the metal bender by himself. The telepath assures Hank that he's completely sound of mind yet maintains the connection. If Charles felt the slightest hint of danger, Hank would sense it too. Distant approval thrums through their mental link. His gaze hones on Erik when he crouches by the brunette's side. He's alone after dispatching Emma to get Janos and retrieve Azazel together.

Erik is far too preoccupied with glaring at bronzed skin smeared in green liquid to acknowledge Charles. The telepath is no fool though. He knows Emma would have informed Erik about his presence. Plus, his wheelchair composed of metal is capable of being sensed by Erik from miles away. Clearly, he wasn't too concerned about it.

His nonchalance both irked Charles at the blatant disregard and warmed a small piece of his soul at the blatant trust.

"Erik, stop." Charles calmly orders.

Inching fingers halt a hair's breadth away from Kaeha's bruised arm. Lips exhale an aggravated sigh before Erik glances up and into twin pools of calm cerulean. Bent limbs straighten to his full, intimidating height; piercing gaze flickering warily between his prey and incoming obstacle. Arms cross over his broad chest in a defensive position Charles easily recognizes.

"_Go home_, Charles." Erik requests in a tired voice.

"Not without her." Charles stonily replies.

Erik's face remains expressionless but Charles knows better. His jaw tightens subtly and a vein starts to tick at the base of his jaw. Twin orbs of metal orbit around his form a fraction faster. To the person Erik calls a friend, his agitation is as clear as day.

"What do you want with her?" Erik questions, gaze unwavering and mildly challenging.

"To help her." He replies curtly.

The taller of the duo doesn't respond and merely casts a glance over Charles's shoulder. The telepath has no need to mirror the action. An influx of minds projecting thoughts of warmth and protection appear and flank his sides in a loose semi-circle. His companions have settled their own battles.

The soft _click_ of Moira's gun echoes through the air as she appears on Charles's right. Hank is a mass of lethal muscles coiled to spring into action by his left. The telepath squeezes his arm quietly to silence the threatening growls.

"Ceramic bullets; well done." Erik wryly congratulates.

Moira ignores his compliment, maintaining her steady posture with the barrel locked on his head. The other loaded arms swivel to the side when Emma and a limping Janos return with an unconscious Azazel braced between them. Charles can feel the hum of a private telepathic conversation between the blonde telepath and Erik. The verdict is clear when Erik's thin lips form a taut line.

Escape was impossible with Azazel out of the picture and the vast amount of agents outnumbered the solitary quartet. Charles's abilities had also developed enough to, at the very least, be on equal standing with Emma. Both sides were equally matched. Fingers tap against his temple as Charles forms a mental bond with Erik.

_Your move. Please, my friend, choose wisely_. Charles quietly murmurs.

The connection breaks mere seconds later, hand sliding back on his arm rest, as they stare each other off silently. A charged tension fuels the scene as mistrust and suspicion permeates the air. Finally, Erik's head dips into a sharp nod and rotating metal orbs sink into linen pockets. Emma huffs delicately behind him in distaste.

"Your proposition, old friend?" Erik inquires with bright, sharp eyes.

Charles doesn't reply instantly. He recognizes the predatory glimmer in the taller man's gaze. If Erik doesn't like what he hears next, he would happily take his chances at a risky escape than oblige the telepath.

Charles catches Moira's gaze and they briefly converse mentally before she scowls in disapproval. Regardless, the cocked gun is hesitantly tucked back into her holster, others following suit at the authorial wave of her hand.

"Kaeha is injured and of no use to you in this state nor do you have the means to heal her back to full health. However, _we_ do. My offer is this: move to my estate temporarily and we shall watch over her recovery together. Once she is awake, the decision is hers and _hers_ alone." Charles declares.

For a frightening pause, Erik says nothing. He exchanges a glance among his companions before evaluating his scuffed shoes instead. Finally, he looks up and smirks dangerously in a flash of sharp teeth.

"So be it."

* * *

Kaeha knows she's dreaming. After all, there is no other possibility of being in this particular room once more. She stares up at the high ceilings in stark white from her spot of lying flat on the floor. Yes, the splotch of worn red paint still clings to a dark corner. She should have never been introduced to arts and craft. Kaeha was, and still is, terrible at it. Exhaling noisily, arms brace against the cold paneled floors as she slowly sits up.

She examines her surroundings in nostalgia. Mismatched walls of wallpaper are haphazardly peppered with nails where picture frames proudly hang. Soft lighting accompanies the lit fireplace in dousing the room with a gentle orange glow. Dark mahogany furniture compliment the plush upholstery. The distinct scent of sage and mint and _home_ coats the air pleasantly.

"Do you intend to sit there all day?" An amused voice remarks.

Her gaze snaps to the dark red couch that was previously unoccupied. A lone figure lies nestled upon it, legs drawn up and hands elegantly clasped in her lap. Pale lips quirk up in a disarming smile that just _glowed_. It was one that the energy used used to see daily. Kaeha comically evaluates her chilly spot before grinning right back.

"It's fairly comfortable. Lovely view too." She mutters airily even as she approaches the couch.

Her companion hums indulgently as Kaeha sinks into the sea of soft cushions. A pale hand encases hers, a sharp contrast against her sun-tanned skin, in a gentle squeeze. The gesture is familiar and comforting yet completely out-of-place. She doesn't turn away from it though. Instead, she returns the gesture with her own light addition of pressure from calloused fingers.

"You aren't getting enough sleep." The slender woman chides affectionately.

Kaeha smiles, one of her true ones which rarely see the light of day. The stability of her dream realm occasionally flickers out of focus. Flashes of memories from a lifetime ago jar her concentration. Burning embers, wailing cries and an endless chase towards a disappearing vehicle barrage her mind. Foreign voices calling her name distract her every so often. Shaking her head, she focuses back on the curled brunette.

"I can't. I have goals to achieve and people to find." Kaeha replies in a similar tone.

"Can you forgive?" Her companion questions, curious and pleading at the same time.

"Perhaps. There are times when I can and times where I don't wish to." She honestly answers.

Slender, pianist fingers curl around her clenched fist tightly. Kaeha didn't realize her hand was shaking. The tiny tremors slowly cease and her hand is reluctantly released. It's surprisingly cold without the gentle warmth wrapped around her calloused palm. Her companion tilts her head, a curtain of waist-long chestnut hair spilling over her shoulder, when she gazes at the window. The stare is bittersweet yet hopeful which only confuses her.

"You always were a stubborn one. I hope to see you soon." The elder woman wistfully confesses.

"Don't hope; _expect_ it. We shall meet soon enough." Kaeha assures in complete confidence.

Again, that radiant smile flashes as delicate fingers trace the edges of her jaw. Her companion says nothing in response; only rising to her feet after the tender gesture. She ambles towards the door which magically swings open. Alarm and panic start to bubble in her veins when the distinct scent of burning kerosene fills the air. Kaeha whips back in fear only to feel the heat of roaring flames.

The quaint little house is set aflame, destined to burn to the ground just like it did a long time ago. Bile and desperation flare up in her throat as she whips back around to face the willowy woman. It's too late for the ravenous flames have nearly reached her thin frame rooted at the threshold.

"Soon. That would be lovely indeed." The woman whispers.

"Wait!" Kaeha yells, hand splayed out in a vain attempt to save her.

Licking fires swirl around the woman and encompasses her fully before flesh and fabric erupt into a burst of embers and ashes. Flames explode behind her which throws Kaeha forward as her imaginary realm dissolves. The momentum carries forward as hazel irises snap open and Kaeha lurches forward with a breathless scream.

Her mind is frazzled and her heart throbs painfully against her chest. She realizes with a start that the strangled cry of anguish originates from her throat. Yet, Kaeha can't make herself stop. Suddenly, a firm hand encloses around her flailing wrist as the other grabs her quivering shoulder firmly.

In an instant, Kaeha is roughly jostled. The world spins bleakly but the heart wrenching dream slowly fades as her vision clears. Kaeha finds herself gazing into two clear pools of icy blue that emit annoyance and mild concern.

They were familiar; achingly familiar, in fact. Her own eyes widen when the memory clicks as she blurts the first word her mind conjures in a haze of confusion and watered down panic.

"_Sasquatch_?" Kaeha sputters.

* * *

_**Mini Rant of Doom:**_

_**Dun dun duuunnnnn! FINALLY I get to start writing scenes where Erik and Kaeha aren't trying to massacre each other!*squeals deliriously***_

_**So, Charles has preyed on Erik's weakness towards his puppy dog eyes to get his way and Kaeha has a peculiar dream and an even more peculiar (and ridiculously attractive) wake up call. Next up, the ridiculous Awkward Dances shall begin! C:**_

_**By the way, do drop me a review if you have the time to spare. It would mean the world to me to hear a smidge of feedback though I will continue writing regardless. Perhaps as a reward for writing this quicker than usual? :3  
**_


	6. Her Four Options

For a lengthy pause, Erik doesn't utter a word. Of course, he's well versed in many areas and has heard ramblings of the creature Kaeha named. However, the simple fact that she equated the fictional monster with him is _aggravating_. Teeth grind as he roughly releases her shoulder and wrist.

Sadistic triumph fills his veins when she keels over sideways with a startled yelp. The mutant was unaware that her right arm is wrapped in a sling. Before she reorients herself, Erik shoves a glass of water into her free hand. Unfortunately, Kaeha fumbles but doesn't spill it all over herself.

Tall limbs gracefully fold as Erik occupies the lone chair by the foot of her bed. He stares Kaeha down in disdain while she drinks in careful, measured sips. Her gaze roams across the vast room in a clinical assessment for possible escape maneuvers. It's clear the duo carry no trust for each other.

_Charles, she's awake._ Erik informs, projecting his thoughts outwards.

Kaeha glances up when he does and Erik's suspicions rise. Slender fingers steeple together as he quietly regards her. He knows she's not a telepath but that's something he's swiftly starting to doubt. His gaze never wavers even when Hank barges into the room in a cluttered mess. Kaeha, however, jumps in a clumsy jerk of stiff limbs. Hank instantly slows down under her razor sharp gaze and offers a watery smile.

"I'm Hank: resident technician and medic guy." He awkwardly introduces himself.

"Kaeha: current captive and, apparently, your patient." She replies wryly.

_She noticed._ Erik notes grudgingly.

Thin bands of metal that appear deceptively fragile encircle her wrists. They dangle loosely but he could easily change that after spending hours acclimating the loops of metal to his will. Kaeha must have sensed his energy coiled within the metallic bands. She couldn't escape him this time. It's with this string of calculative thoughts occupying his mind when Charles enters, flashing a reproachful gaze which Erik easily brushes off.

"Good morning, Miss Malik. How are you feeling?" Charles inquires.

The warmth and sincerity curling around his jovial syllables relaxes the hostile duo. Erik's sharp gaze softens and Kaeha's tense shoulders steadily drop. Acknowledging his question, Kaeha does a quick sweep across her form and flexes her limbs methodically as Hank nods and quietly assists the process.

"Technically, nothing seems physically wrong but something isn't quite right." She trails off in confusion.

"Hank?" Charles questions as his gaze shifts to the doctor for his opinion.

"Physical examinations don't raise any alarms. Diagnostics are clean as well. Besides the bruising on her right arm and the drugs still weakening her system, she's healthy." Hank concludes.

"Use your mutation." Erik drawls when a thought clicks in his mind.

Once more, his field of vision narrows into a whirlwind of hazel and gold when Kaeha snaps her gaze on him. She stares with masked apprehension before complying, raising a hand and clenching her fingers sharply. Even without telepathy or empathy Erik senses her intense concentration. Besides, he recognizes the gesture. It was the same one she used to set that infernal slab of wood on fire.

However, nothing happens.

An annoyed sigh escapes his lips when his theory is proven right. He had visited the facility that trapped her before. Closer inspection and an expert examination of the drugs showed it was tailored made to dampen Kaeha's mutation. Erik always knew this was bound to happen.

Laced fingertips brush his chin as he watches Kaeha try again and again. Whitened knuckles quiver from the effort only to produce a pathetic fizzle of sparks. He waits for the anger and frustration to warp her rigid posture. Erik had felt the same when he failed to move that satellite mere months ago.

Instead, Kaeha merely frowns at her palm before raising her frustrated gaze towards Hank. He straightens from the weight of her attention and nods encouragingly for her to speak.

"How long would it take to completely wear off?" She asks in tired curiosity.

"About three weeks; possibly even a month. I'm sorry but it was much more potent this time." Hank replies wistfully.

This time, Erik catches the flicker of frustration that twists her lips into a brief scowl. His head tilts in a slight nod of approval that goes unnoticed. Kaeha valued her power to feel unsettled by the loss of it. It was another thread that separated her from Charles and connected her to Erik instead. He feels unusually pleased at the notion.

"What's _your_ agenda then, Sasquatch?" She suddenly questions.

Teeth gnash as Erik's jaw tightens, visibly recoiling from the casual use of the loathsome name. He doesn't feel pleased any more.

* * *

Cerulean irises dart warily between an alert Kaeha and a fuming Erik. Hank has a comforting hand on his shoulder which trembles every so often. Charles understands and shakes as well in carefully concealed mirth. If Kaeha wasn't such a necessary asset, Erik would have shattered the arteries pumping around her slender wrists. After all, it wasn't often that his tough, intimidating self was reduced to a fictional entity with giant tufts of fur.

A sharp glare from the metal bender warns the telepath that he's walking on thin ice. Stifling another round of chuckles, Charles sobers up and paints on a solemn face. Lips twitch when Erik exercises his carefully honed restraint and relaxes into the metal chair that thrummed in indignation.

"To use you. Your information on the facilities is more in-depth and your methods are efficient." He bluntly states.

The breath Charles inhaled quickly extinguishes as he openly gapes at the predatory man in disbelief. Erik had been completely honest. Charles had months to familiarize himself to the subtle signals Erik made when concealing an ulterior motive or lie. It ranged from absent, rhythmic taps upon his knee to a rotation of his wrist in a faux stretch. Regardless, when he spoke to Kaeha, none of those cues emerged.

_Either he's changed or he knows better than to lie. _He muses.

Charles is certain its the latter. Pale fingers swipe across his lips to rid an amused smirk, sitting up straighter when Kaeha glances over. He waits for a question and receives a quiet smile instead. Even without reading her mind, he instinctively knows Kaeha is aware of his intentions. He mirrors her expression and patiently waits.

* * *

Thoughts clutter her mind once mental walls are raised as Kaeha carefully weighs her options. She could leave. Charles wouldn't stop her and Sasquatch would only pursue her once the telepath is blissfully oblivious. By then, she can resume their little dance and slip right past his fingertips. However, this was an opportunity she couldn't waste. Kaeha has limitations on her mutation and she's slowly running out of steam.

The second option would be to stay with Charles. She had sensed the mingling teens and scampering children blasting hyperactive waves of energy. It took her a while but she figured this was a school of sorts. Charles would somehow find her a place in it; Kaeha knows it in her bones. It would be safe and secure and gratifying in a way. This was the possible life she sacrificed; a sacrifice Kaeha was determined not to waste.

Escaping is out of the question. Sasquatch had cautiously shifted closer to Charles and glared ominously in warning at her when he entered. One slight move, even if it was to harmlessly take him out, would result in pain at the least and death at the most. She approves of the notion wholeheartedly. Charles is practically made of rainbows and sunshine after all.

Kaeha wasn't even going to consider going with Sasquatch without a struggle. He reminded her too much of the persona she immerses in when infiltrating those wretched facilities: cold, brutal, clinical and efficient. Caring about Charles showed the spark of a conscience and good will. However, that wasn't enough for her to entrust her life to him.

Raising her gaze from the expertly formed sling encasing her smarting arm, she fixes her gaze on the telepath. Bottle blue irises gaze back in calm anticipation for her request. She nods mechanically, needing an affirmation of his intentions. Charles is quick to understand the nonverbal signal.

"You can stay for as long as you wish; at the least, long enough for a full recovery. After that is entirely your call." He assures, hand twitching as though he wanted to give hers a tight squeeze.

"And you intend to continue pursuing this warped organization, yes?" She asks, directing her question to the reclining man at the end of her bed.

"Yes and preferably with your help. After a full recovery, of course." Sasquatch hesitantly replies.

Kaeha bites back a grin as Charles withdraws his stern glare. Her health and well-being was clearly an afterthought for the taller man. Focusing back on the present, her choice is blatantly obvious. Kaeha will stay, recover completely, assist this dysfunctional group and finally reach the finishing line of her struggle. Silencing the manic concerns for wasting time or failure with a noisy exhale, she faces the waiting trio with her lips curving into a small smile.

"I'll stay."

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant:_**

**_Perhaps it's a tad slow and filler-ish but at least Hank appeared for a bit! :D Now that the setting is set, the plot can slowly progress. *cackles evilly*_**

**_Again, to all you wonderful souls that Review and Favorite and Follow, thank you! You lot are the reason why I'm so eager to write and actually finish this. Thanks again everyone! C':_**


	7. Wandering Ruminations

Gravel crunches softly beneath unsteady feet as Kaeha wobbles before crumpling to her knees. Tanned fingers curl around a loose pebble to savagely fling it across manicured lawns. Admittedly, attempting a jog merely three days after landing herself in a medical ward _is_ overkill. The bit of logic didn't ease the loathing she felt about her current condition though.

She had spent months perfecting the art of sailing through treacherous forests and taking down armadas of mercenaries. Now, to be reduced to this helpless state, is _incredibly_ frustrating. Kaeha sucks in a deep, faltering breath before forcing herself upright. Quivering knees ache in protest yet remain stable. Good. Another clumsy tumble onto pristine cobblestone paths would result in uncouth swears and a fuming mutant.

"Perhaps you should refrain from any form of decorating." A familiar voice wryly advices.

"Afraid I'll outdo you, Xavier?" Kaeha chirps back sarcastically.

Charles laughs carelessly as he rolls to a stop beside her, palm grazing her back to steady her fragile balance. She nods silently in appreciation. He has an uncanny ability to detect and cater to unspoken needs even without telepathy. Surrendering the willful idea of exercise, Kaeha trails beside Charles as they head for the Institute. Teeth sink into her lip to bite back a grin when Charles huffs and looks pointedly at the pebble marring a sea of green.

Being with Charles is as easy as breathing. They harmonized almost eerily well and he kept Kaeha company during those few days Hank forced her to rest. The medic was a little awkward but he always smiled proudly each time she caught and laughed over muttered sarcastic quips. Azazel rarely interacted with her. The rare moments where they did were brief yet somewhat friendly.

The teleporter harbored no ill feelings towards her which was Kaeha's sole concern. Janos mirrored Azazel's approach which was easy to handle. Emma, thankfully, kept her patronizing visits short and swift. Kaeha wasn't overly fond of her silky syllables glossed over in honey and sugar. They always seemed to conceal an ulterior motive which Kaeha sensed but couldn't decipher.

At the other end of the spectrum is Erik - she _finally_ learned his name though she was loath to use it. The sharp discomfort from constant honesty slowly faded from his voice. There were even times he seemed oddly at ease around her. Its bizarre and bipolar and bewildering to the energy user.

"Any news?" She questions, shaking her head free of wandering thoughts.

Despite her gaze fixed on looming wrought iron gates, Kaeha catches his head shaking in a negative. Charles brushes his fingertips over her knuckles, eliciting a small smile. Azazel had awakened only two days ago before immediately sent off with Janos and Emma to follow a possible lead. The short span of time would hardly warrant results so soon but a girl can dream.

Fingers reach out towards heavy oak doors only for it to magically swing open. Instincts force her to take a step back and shield Charles. Erik, hand still on the knob, flashes a smile only to quickly retract it. It must have been an impulsive gesture. The telepath by her side grins and rolls inside first.

Kaeha barely notices as Erik glances over her form. The scrutiny made her stiffen. His sharp gaze lingers on the scratches littering her arms and the scuffs on her knees. This time, his condescending smirk is deliberate as he leans against the door.

"I assume you had a nice run?" He questions innocently.

Kaeha is quick to detect the underlying jibe. Fury thunders across her face as she steps closer, minimizing the space between them as lips part to fire a cutting remark. Erik's smirk widens at her reaction only to dissipate the next second. As if a switch was flicked, the angry lines on her face fade into a serene expression.

Her unnaturally broad smile catches him off guard which allows her arm to shoot out and land on its intended target: Erik's perfectly groomed hair. Messing it up roughly, Kaeha beams at the now untamed shrub atop his head.

"Oh yes, it was _fantastic_." She proudly states, quickly slipping away to avoid his wrath.

Muffled chuckles echo from the corner Charles took as Kaeha hustles her way over. Erik is probably too shocked to retaliate just yet. Peeking over her shoulder as she rounds the bend in the hallway, she tries to steal a quick glance. Charles reflexively reaches out to steady her wheeling form as always.

Erik stands there, paralyzed in shock as dark eyelashes blink rapidly. His energy fluctuates from the spike of emotions before lips twitch up briefly. Fingers reach up to try and tame the chestnut havoc as he exits the door for his own run.

In that brief moment of time, Kaeha caught a glimpse of Erik's first genuine smile.

* * *

Intelligent blue eyes narrow and eyebrows knot as Hank catalogs every movement the brunette makes. It's been five days since Kaeha woke and all she can conjure are dying sparks. At least her lethargy has mildly decreased. She managed to make an entire lap around the Institute's grounds this morning.

Hank had tagged along to keep an eye on her and upon her request. He's almost certain it's to prevent Erik from joining her like the previous - disastrous - time. They had returned in the picture of composed apathy. Hank, however, noticed the vein beneath Erik's jaw throbbing and the hard line carved across Kaeha's shoulders.

They were both angry and refused to show it as they stiffly parted ways. Hank shakes his head in amusement, concealing his mirth behind a clipboard.

_It's akin to two same elements that resonate and yet extinguish in each others presence._ Hank muses.

He clears his head only to jump at the small smile Kaeha flashed. It was the same, secretive grin each time she overheard his mutterings. This time though, he hadn't said it aloud verbally. Spectacles slip down the bridge of his nose as Hank openly gapes at her. It takes a few attempts to get his voice out.

"How did you do that? You aren't a telepath, are you?" He blurts incredulously.

His outburst catches both Charles's and Erik's attention. The telepath had escorted her to the medical ward after her morning run as per their unspoken routine. Erik, however, stopped by unexpectedly to look over her medical reports with a sharp gaze. Now, their focus is on Kaeha and Hank. They both caught the flash of simmering ocher and intelligently connected the dots.

"Not in the conventional sense. Thoughts are nothing more than electrical signals which my mutation can detect. All it takes is deciphering each pattern to read a thought and inputting a particular pattern to create a thought." Kaeha explains.

"B-But that means you know the entire English language in nerve impulse patterns." Hank splutters in awe and disbelief.

"Including English, three languages actually. I had the time and an excellent teacher." She corrects, a pained grimace flickering across her face at the end.

The meaning of that expression was lost on Hank and Charles. Erik clearly knew better when he placed a restraining hand on Charles's shoulder. The surge of curiosity and admiration in his raised shoulders slowly fade. Hank recognized that gesture easily: _say nothing or you shall regret it._ Clearing his throat, fingers push his spectacles back into place as Hank allows a genuine, comforting smile.

He hesitantly reaches out to pat her knee to signify the end of the medical checkup as per their routine. Kaeha smiles wanly in reply. For a brief second, all is right in the world again. Charles quickly rolls forward while brandishing a leather bound novel in hand. At the sight, the hollow expression carved into her face morphs into her usual attentive demanor.

The duo discovered their passion for classic literature a few days ago and chattered away as Hank fussed with drawing blood and checking heart rates. This must be the prized first edition that Charles had boasted about the other afternoon. Chuckling quietly, Hank files her updated physical report and eyes his microscope in the corner. He had extracted fragments of the enhanced drug from the vials of her blood. An antidote was harder to make than he expected.

The complexity was on a whole other level in comparison to the previous samples Moira shared with him. Unease had settled in his gut like lead at the discovery he made hours ago: the drugs were catered specifically for Kaeha alone. Whoever invented it needed at least _years_ of knowledge about her system and mutation to execute it so flawlessly. The only possibility would be someone she was in close contact with from infancy betrayed her.

Hank hated the thought. He liked Kaeha and the effortless way she integrated herself into their bizarre family. Even the kids adored her; especially Alex that found a piece of himself mirrored in her.

_Anyone that threatens our family will not be tolerated._ Hank vows solemnly.

The combination of Erik's and Moira's efforts would eventually locate the masterminds behind this cruel organization. At that time, Hank was sure even Charles would display a merciless side. Shaking his head clear of morbid thoughts, pale lips part to ask if everyone would like to have lunch.

The good doctor starts in surprise when he notices Erik reclining against the doorway. The metal bender usually left by now. Pools of ice immersed in unreadable emotions are riveted upon Charles and Kaeha. Erik lingers for a second longer before darting out the room in stiff paces. Hank managed to catch a glimpse of his gaze though.

His eyes were filled with bittersweet envy and the same aching hollowness Kaeha had.

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant:  
_**

**_ I apologize greatly for the uber long delay. The universe suddenly handed me an active social life and I clearly didn't know how to manage it all._**

**_Anyway, there's finally a piece of Erik/Kaeha interaction! They clearly don't trust each other - except on their love for Charles, cause, c'mon, Charles - and thus invading personal space boundaries is the best way to annoy each other. *cackles evilly*  
_**

**_Now I've addressed the question of Kaeha's quirky use of her mutation and created tons more questions to be answered. I'm sorry that I'm not sorry. *smirks*  
_**


	8. Tea Fixes Everything

Charles reclines into his comfortable chair as he quietly observes his milling students. The steadily growing group is occupying the lawns as Alex demonstrates a few combative maneuvers. Inevitable chuckles escape his lips when clumsy ones kick their classmates instead of the target. The self-declared teacher gruffly admonishes them but Charles manages to make out the grin tugging at his lips.

Auburn hair burns a brilliant copper in the sunlight when Kaeha leaves her shady spot beneath a tree. She gently adjusts incorrect stances and curls novice fingers into proper fists. Being cooped up in his study, Charles can't hear the whispered advice she offers. He knows whatever she said worked though when the ten year old lands a solid punch on the target. She nods proudly in approval.

_She should teach._ Charles smiles as Alex and Kaeha monitor and assist wayward students.

"She's fairly pleasant to have around." A deep, baritone voice comments absently.

The unconscious beam Charles had on display stiffens before it slowly slips away. He didn't notice Erik entering his study. Refusing to offer a verbal answer, the telepath merely dips his head into a curt nod. A bone weary sigh echoes after his response as Erik remains stationary by the looming threshold.

The bitterness Charles felt at all Erik had taken and the yearning for his company results in his usual emotional turmoil. It wasn't like before. The duo always had different ideals yet somehow figured out a way to march along the same path. Now, their tune is no longer synchronized and Charles is incapable of fixing it.

Ever since that day on the beach with Shaw, he swore he would never touch Erik's mind again. At this moment though, he didn't need to. Burning fragments of Erik's thoughts brush against the edges of his consciousness. Charles can sense sorrow, self-loathing and that small flicker of warmth that remained from the embers of their friendship. The telepath stifles derisive laughter. Erik is actually _sorry_.

Fingers tense and curl around the padded armrests when the hurricane of Erik's jumbled thoughts steadily increases. Charles winces and instinctively sends Hank a telepathic message for tea. A pounding headache is slowly creeping in from his temples. Finally, Erik ceases his internal storm and hesitantly sets foot into the brightly lit room. His next step is more reassured and his voice is quiet yet soothing.

"Charles, please, I-" He begins only to abruptly stop when Charles swivels around to face him.

It wasn't simmering rage or hollow bitterness that extinguished the words Erik formed behind pale lips. Cerulean pools were achingly tired and defeated as they gazed upon the taller man. Never once did Charles look at him with a look akin to one you give a monster. This one is no exception; it's thoughtful and merely seeing but Erik deciphers the sadness lurking beneath.

Words tangle into a guilty knot in his throat as Charles wheels forward in the direction of the door. His pace fractionally slows when he reaches the spot Erik is rooted to.

"Consider your next few words carefully." He quietly warns.

Erik swallows the heavy lump and remains in blistering silence as the telepath brushes by his arm on the way out. Charles senses the air shift when the solemn man turns as though to stop him. However, he leaves the room unhindered save for the smothering gaze burning against his scalp. The telepath doesn't spare a backwards glance which probably wounded them both equally.

_It's too soon._ Charles wistfully sighs to himself.

Friendship is a distant dream for the genetics scholar. Deep within his heart, lingering fragments of resentment for his now useless legs fester every time he looks at Erik. No, Charles refused to offer his hand to the lost man when the possibility of hurting Erik further exists.

As for the electromagnetic user, Charles knows an apology now would originate from his guilt. Erik assumed his surreptitious glances of despair at Charles's immobile limbs went unnoticed; clearly, he was wrong. Thus, the telepath would wait until Erik closes the distance between them simply because he _wants_ to instead out of a sense of obligation.

_Knowing that man and his one track mind, that could take a while._ He frowns at the floor.

If it weren't for the gentle waves of serenity suddenly emerging in his mind, Charles would have plowed right into Kaeha. He manages to stop just millimeters away and smiles up at her sheepishly as she chuckles. Her right hand has a saucer occupied with a steaming teacup braced upon her open palm. A genuine smile works across his face at the sight of his precious tea.

Muscles tense as the smile morphs into a flinching grimace when he hears Erik's brisk footsteps. Charles feels Kaeha's intent gaze rest on his taut shoulders before shifting to the disappearing figure down the opposite end of the hallway then back again. The sigh she releases is heavy and laced with unreadable emotions.

"Tea?" She merely offers in a neutral voice.

"Gladly." Charles gratefully murmurs.

The harsh pounding in his head has increased by tenfold. The question now is whether its caused by his own internal dilemma or Erik's. Charles leaves that tricky question unanswered.

* * *

Tired irises blearily stare at the marble surface basked in shadows for a few long seconds. The fog condensed in her brain momentarily clears to remind her she was in the kitchen for tea. Nodding dazedly, Kaeha gets a cup and mechanically begins the process. Fingertips massage the bridge of her nose when she senses an impending headache. Hank had warned her after all.

The drugs clinging to her system are slowly breaking down into harmless substances which, apparently, leads to a series of discomforts. A bitter scoff escapes her lips as her face contorts into disdain, glaring blithely at the amber liquid tipping into her fragile cup.

"_Discomforts_. I feel like I've been run over by a truck repeatedly." She mutters darkly.

Fingers touch the porcelain edge, absorbing heat until her drink is at the perfect temperature. Her mutation may not be in the 'Extremely Hazardous' range but it certainly had its perks if used wisely. Allowing a gleeful grin, Kaeha sips her tea and blissfully sighs when warmth ebbs into her veins and soothes her throbbing head.

Now she understands why Charles is more obsessed than most with tea. It really eases migraines. Picking up her warm cup, Kaeha's bare feet are soundless as she stealthily heads for her room. Small talk is on the bottom of her priority list. The energy user crawls through barely used hallways to avoid any wandering insomniac students. Despite the low population, random night prowlers are a surprising regularity.

She creeps across a bend only to skid, again, to a silent halt. Wary hazel eyes shift to the carpeted floor. Warm light spills across the floor in a thin band of glowing orange from the slightly ajar door. Bronzed fingers thread through the air in a sharp flick of her wrist. The energy signature is familiar and one she's been trying, and miserably failing, to avoid: Erik. Scrutinizing at the door, Kaeha notes the room is another of Charles's endless mini libraries.

_Judging by the dust, it's clearly not used too often either_. She muses.

Toes curl into the fuzzy carpet as she debates whether she should leave or check on the solitary man. He had seemed unsettled when Kaeha saw him that afternoon. Then again, Charles was in no better state either. She quickly adds the third of checking up on her gentle friend into her mental debate.

"I don't bite." Velvet tones quietly call out, a challenge to enter the room lacing Erik's voice.

"Said the spider to the fly." Kaeha replies in a sickly sweet croon as she instinctively accepts his dare.

The disgustingly saccharine syllables elicit the reaction she wanted from Erik: a noise torn between annoyance and amusement. The room is otherwise silent. Lamps have been carefully chosen to provide the room with enough light to keep the shadows at bay yet mask half of Erik's slender form in darkness. She knows the effect is completely intentional when she's denied a proper view of his face.

Curious eyes survey the room as she continues drinking her tea. The other occupant of the room says nothing as she browses the shelves. Kaeha adopts the same silent approach when she senses his fluctuating energy slowly settle. It's interesting how emotions expressed themselves in minute forms.

Regardless, Erik seems contented by her calm presence. The brunette treads cautiously though; quiet moments with the metal bender tended to be dangerous, aggravating or creepily idyllic. There was nothing in between with the duo; at least not with their paltry trust towards each other. Kaeha, however, has a hunch that Erik is mulling over Charles.

_His usual 'let us exterminate the human race' thoughts have a different wavelength frequency._ She sighs.

Annoyed at their almost childish standstill, Kaeha pulls out a leather-bound book and examines the cover in the dim lighting. The elegant title _Collected Works of G.K. Chesterton_ stares up at her in cursive script. Flipping past worn pages, she finds the line she was looking for before shoving the book into Erik's hands. Eyebrows knot briefly as he delicately cradles it and reads the line her finger tapped.

"_The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him._" He reads aloud.

Confusion slightly contorts the emotionless lines of his jaw as he gazes up at her expectantly. Kaeha resists the urge to shake him by the shoulders. Her every gesture had to be censored and filtered thanks to the metal loops still encircling her wrists. Drawing a breath, she hesitantly plunges into unfamiliar territory.

"Your emotions are always in extremities. If you care for someone, then it is deeply and unconditionally. The same applies to your feelings of hatred, anger or sadness. You care for Charles. I see it; we all see it. A true friend is a rare miracle that so few are blessed with. Now explain to yourself why you would jeopardize a way to further your cause and restore your friendship simply because of _guilt_." She calmly states.

Razor blue irises turn an almost unearthly shade of ice as Erik quietly absorbs her words. Kaeha turns off her usual energy sensors to allow himself a moment alone with his emotions. All she manages to catch is a brief flicker of fury and sorrow. It takes Erik a few minutes to finally avert his gaze from her face to the printed words.

"Good night, Kaeha." Erik finally dismisses in a quiet murmur.

"Good night." She echoes evenly, picking up her cup and exiting the room.

She had noticed his knuckles turn white as Erik tightly clutched onto the worn book on her way out. Kaeha knows he never considered Charles a hindrance to his goals. Yes, perhaps as a ghost to forever haunt his nights to remind Erik of his mistakes but never an _obstacle_. It pained her to paint her kind friend in such emotionless terms but those were the only sort Erik could acknowledge.

_Don't screw this up, Lehnsherr._ She sighs.

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant (as always):_**

**_I think my idealistic weekly updates are officially impossible. OTL Well, at least there's still an update and it's the longest! :D Plus, Erik is slowly but steadily thawing out so yaay you emotionally awkward man. :3  
_**

**_I feel terrible for not including more of the other kids or even Hank and Moira. I'll try and fix that soon. By the way, review away if you can, lovelies. Feedback always makes me eager to write! C:_**


	9. First Move

"You look harassed." A disembodied voice remarks around the familiar _crunch_ of an apple.

Honed reflexes brutally trained to a sharp point kept Moira from screaming like a five year old girl. Swallowing the knotted nerves in her throat, she turns around. It takes a few moments but she finally locates her fellow brunette. Slender limbs are neatly coiled into the lotus position as Kaeha sits atop the wooden dining table. Exhaling a sigh, Moira nods and occupies the chair closest to the mutant.

"You have _no idea._" She groans in despair.

A laugh slips out when the uneven texture of a cookie touches her palm. Gratuitously accepting the sugary treat wedged under her hand, Moira nibbles on it as her mind wanders. Her thoughts center on the recent investigations. Now that Emma and Azazel are on their side, possible leads and clues surged forward like a tidal wave.

Progress is faster than ever and more dead ends were quickly eliminated. Despite that, the number of bodies were piling up. Children, teenagers and the scant few adults were sloppily butchered, drugged or reduced to a bloody mess of broken limbs. Clearly the warped scientists were feeling pressured by their constant raids.

Moira feels nausea and bile coagulate in her throat at the memories. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't erase the phantom sensation of cradling those shattered bodies. Firmly shutting down those morbid thoughts, she shifts to the mental list of gathered information.

A fairly accurate extent of the organization's network has been determined. Thankfully, the minimal facilities they occupied were limited to isolated areas of USA's east coast and patches of woodlands in Canada.

What worried her was the lack of knowledge on the person or people heading this group and the increasingly potent drugs. Every scientist they attempted to apprehend were terminated by an implanted chip in their brain. It was a new preventive measure after Kaeha's allies escaped.

Plus, whatever hired guards or mercenaries they _did_ contain had nothing useful to divulge no matter how deeply Emma probed their minds. However, there was a recent and impressive breakthrough. Erik accompanied them on their previous ambush and successfully extracted one chip seconds from detonation. The blonde telepath then withdrew every morsel of information from the experimenter's mind with surgical precision.

Details on a meeting with anxious higher ranks were discovered. Now they had a date, location and time.

_All that's missing is 'who' but we'll find that out soon enough._ Moira concludes, determined eyes flashing in the dark.

Preparations for all sorts of possible scenarios were being made. Erik, his team and even some of Charles's students were roped into participating. No one could safely dismiss the speculation of mutants collaborating with their enemies after all. Thus, Moira is being worn to the bone with drills, strategy meetings and insomnia.

"You can get through this." Kaeha quietly reassures.

Blinking away the haze clouding her mind, Moira lifts her gaze and manages to make out Kaeha's encouraging smile. Tanned fingers lace through hers as Kaeha squeezes her hand. The CIA agent feels her strength renewed as a burst of energy floods her veins. Breathing deeply, Moira squeezes her hand back and absorbs the steady warmth that her companion offered. She feels much calmer now.

"How are you holding up?" Moira questions.

It was obviously an attempt to steer the conversation towards lighter topics. Kaeha indulges her by playing along which Moira is grateful for. Fingers snap to conjure a small flame that dances right above her fingertip. Crimson fire flickers into orange then yellow and finally white as the temperature increases before abruptly extinguishing.

"I'd say about one fifth of my powers are back. My stamina is still too incompetent for combat practice though." She responds, glaring at the table.

This time, it's Moira that gives Kaeha's hand a reassuring squeeze. It may have lacked the spark of revitalizing energy but it still conveyed her message: _You'll get through this._ Kaeha smiles gratefully and rewards Moira with a second cookie from the jar by her knee. Another amused laugh tumbles out of the agent's lips. They sit there for what feels like a long age, bantering quietly about normal and mundane affairs.

When Moira nearly nods off, the duo finally depart from the vast kitchen and head upstairs for their rooms. The brunette barely notices the route she takes. Far too often she prowled untouched corridors to mull over her troubles. Thus, lax muscles flinch when Kaeha's fingers suddenly claw into her upper arm. This time Moira jumps in surprise as wide eyes swivel towards the slender mutant by her side.

"What is it?" She asks in a hushed whisper.

Cautious hazel irises dart between the door at the hallway's end and the luxurious floors. Eyebrows furrow as the agent tilts sideways at a precarious angle to glimpse the door. Her confusion merely doubles when the carved sign tells her its a library. Last time she checked, Kaeha simply adored libraries.

Said conundrum firmly tugs Moira onto a different path without a backwards glance. Lips part to question her odd behavior only to seal shut at the sight of her tumultuous expression. The brunette has seen the same agitation contorting her face - and Erik's - once after their forced run. Chuckles fill the air as Kaeha stubbornly drags her dear friend behind her, annoyed grip tightening with each muffled sound of mirth.

"Are you running away?" Moira questions between errant giggles.

"Shut up." Kaeha grumbles in obvious denial.

* * *

"Hey, you okay?" A hesitant voice asks.

Erik starts in surprise before concealing the moment of weakness with a dour glare. It clearly intimidates the ginger enough to erase any memory of the metal bender's flinch. A flustered Sean tries to stop blubbering while contemplative irises shift back to the box cradled in his hands. Perhaps the question was warranted since he had been standing outside the door for an unusually long time.

"I'm fine." Erik curtly replies.

Deep, velvet-like tones sound strained and distant as fingers trace the intricate wooden border. Memories surge forth with each light caress and Erik is torn between loathing and enjoying the vivid mental images. Sean hums absently as his head tilts to the side, thin arms crossing across a slender chest. The sonic screamer scrutinizes Erik's rigid posture before finally nodding at whatever conclusion his mind produced.

He waits for Sean to pass an oblivious or jovial remark as always only to receive a strong, reassuring pat upon stiff shoulders.

"Whatever awful scenario you've got playing in your head, it really isn't as bad as you think." Sean counsels sagely.

Blinking in disbelief at the oddly astute observation, Erik is reduced to a silent stare as the ginger flashes a victory sign before ambling down the hallway. It takes him a few long moments to regain his composure but he does manage it. Shoulders roll back to shrug off the odd incident but Erik still feels the warm imprint of optimistic fingers.

He shakes his head and forcefully redirects his attention to the wooden case. Lacquered wood gleams up at him in a seductive lure to lift the lid. Erik doesn't have to though. He knows every polished component inside down to the slight scuff beneath a knight's metal base. After all, he _had_ spent hours in Charles's study playing chess with the telepath until Hank hounded them to end their late matches and sleep.

Starting a chess match was their subtle way to make amends. Charles and Erik are proud men with entrenched beliefs and clashing ideals; storming off and angry spats were inevitable. Regardless, all one had to do was set up the checkered board and seething indignation would fade as the game progressed. It was effortless.

_'Was' indeed._ Erik mutters darkly.

Teeth sink into his tongue sharply to ward off morbid thoughts. Erik has spent _enough_ of his time brooding in isolated libraries. Besides, visits from an annoying brunette with blunt truths are a pain he isn't willing to endure. For one last time, he stares at the brass knob and visualizes his possible failure. Erik loathes to lose and failure is no exception.

At this moment though, he no longer cares.

Fingers rap on the door in three consecutive knocks. A muffled permission to enter filters through the heavy oak door. Twisting the knob, Erik hesitantly steps through the threshold to see Charles seated by his table. Papers are strewn about the polished surface and litter the floors. Bending over, he picks one up and glances over a possibly syllabus with heavily crossed out words.

"Ah, Moira, it's about time you-" The telepath begins speaking only to cease once he finally glances upwards.

Charles swallows down the rest of his words, casting an analytic look similar to Sean's as graceful hands slowly gather his papers. Erik notices his gaze lingering on the ornate chess case before averting after a long pause. Once his table is relatively clear, fingers steeple and expectant cerulean irises bore into Erik. It was a strenuous effort to not squirm.

"You were expecting company." He points out, approaching the desk in small, measured steps.

"Company that can wait." Charles evenly replies.

Any chance of further delaying his future demise is effectively eradicated by the scholar's neutral voice. Refusing to swallow the thick lump growing in throat, which would clearly be a sign of weakness, Erik takes a seat and silently assembles the chess set. Charles is a silent spectator the entire time. Gripping his hidden knees tightly, Erik blinks and the white marble pawn glides two boxes forward.

It takes more courage than necessary to lift his gaze from the stationary rook to Charles's face. A plethora of emotions shift across the telepath's face as he stares the pawn down in deliberation. Finally, slender fingers curl around a black pawn and slowly edges it one step forward. Erik releases the breath of relief he wasn't aware he withheld in a sharp exhale.

"This won't fix everything." Charles murmurs as he mentally maps out his next few moves.

"I realize." Erik responds in equally soft tremors.

Obviously, the simplified act of camaraderie isn't enough to exonerate every committed crime or lurking guilt. The duo have slowly changed though. Charles now accepts that a more aggressive approach may pave the way to peace and Erik now acknowledges that non-mutants have their own value. A few months apart and failed attempts on both ends taught them each that much.

Regardless, a better understanding wouldn't restore their friendship. After spending a few days here, Erik realized Charles had forgiven him long ago. The only obstacles in their way are mending their shattered trust and overcoming the brewing feelings of bitterness. As the game progresses and sarcastic remarks spring forward, the familiar ease in simply existing together slowly creeps in.

However, Erik is aware of the magnitude of this colossal challenge. It stands before him like a towering mountain with blistering winds and an invisible peak that stretches on endlessly. Despite that, he has at least taken the first step by initiating a game of chess. Now, he has hope.

_It's a start._

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant:_**

**_I'd like to start my rant with a personal, humongous thanks to my awesome guest reviewer. Your critique was priceless and alterations have been made, hopefully for the better. :D_**

**_Finally, I'd just like to smother everyone in endless hugs! I seriously cannot believe I have more than forty followers now. You guys make my world shine! *creys in joy*_**


	10. Constant Oddities

Tanned fingers lift the horrendous disaster of canary and obsidian with a nauseated grimace. Kaeha inspects every seam and crevice, face draining of color as the seconds tick by. Erik tries his best to remain a pillar of severity and fails with a smile flickering across thin lips. His amusement annoys the hell out of her.

"This is the _uniform_? He wants me to _willingly_ put on _yellow spandex_?" Kaeha sputters in disbelief.

"There's also black." Erik tartly corrects.

Her withering glare merely coaxes his smirk to reveal itself in full force. Shoving the monstrosity back into its case, Kaeha glares at the lid. Thoughts of igniting the heinous garment on fire slowly consume her mind. The mere fact that Charles specially prepared this for her prevented an actual combustion. Fingers massage the bridge of her nose as she sighs deeply.

_Something that clingy would be a hindrance for practice_. She mutters in discomfort.

As she deliberates possible substitutes, approaching limbs catch her attention. A wary glance is cast when Erik walks over. A few days after her lecture in the library, Erik started to treat her more cordially. It was a pleasant change but she still kept herself on guard.

A pale hand reaches out towards her and Kaeha blinks blankly at the offered garments. A loose black tunic and sleek leggings have been neatly folded and now nestle within his broad palm. Eyebrows furrow when it appears to be her size.

"Unlike Charles, I predicted a negative reaction and prepared an alternative." Erik drawls, handing over the tidy pile of charcoal.

He doesn't wait for her reply, stalking off towards the edge of the ring. Sinewy muscles flex as Erik melts into customary stretches before sparring. Kaeha, still stunned by sudden kindness, changes into the training garb behind a dressing screen. She glides over to the opposite side of the ring and mirror her opponent's movements.

_It does cater to my tastes better._ She muses, grateful for the nonrestrictive tunic and habitual color scheme.

The energy user brushes aside Erik's perceptive insight and focuses on the familiar ache of muscles. It's been exactly ten days since her awry drug dosing and Hank finally cleared her for physical training. Assisting the kids was a pleasure but a pale comparison to the exhilaration of actual combat. The addictive gratification of pushing her physical limits outweighed her usual practice of nonviolence.

Adrenaline courses through her veins from the familiar build up before a fight. Relaxing her muscles to a deceptively lax state, the unlikely duo step into the center. They circle each other in slow steps as they wait for someone to make the first move.

Admittedly, she would have preferred Hank as her sparring partner. He would have been ideal to refresh her foundation before easing into the complex moves. She would have no such luxury with Erik. The metal bender wouldn't assume she was too weak to handle vigorous exercise and thus would give his all.

_Full steam ahead._ She dryly chirps, darting forward to land a fist into his exposed throat.

Erik easily deflects her punch with an agile slip to the right. The sudden shift throws her slightly off balance enough for calloused fingers to wrap around a thin wrist. Silver loop gleaming, Kaeha is yanked forward and neatly flipped over his shoulder.

She contorts herself to land on her feet instead of her back but his brute strength made it a hard landing. The lingering force shoots up her calves and stabs into her knees. Rolling sideways to avoid a lethal kick to her temple, Kaeha springs back onto her feet in one fluid motion.

A fair amount of space reforms between them as they circle each other once more. The abrupt change in pace from swift blows to slow stalking keeps her on her toes. Well-placed jabs and graceful dodges are traded back and forth between the duo in an almost fierce dance.

Of course, Kaeha is the one that ends up more bruised as their skirmish progresses. Despite being light-footed and skillfully anticipating Erik's blows, he still moves like a well-oiled machine with effortless dexterity as he decimates her flawed defense. She ends up sprawled on the mat fairly often.

Regardless, he would gently help her back onto her feet before calmly explaining the errors she made and methods to fix them. After an hour of sparring, Kaeha finds herself slowly falling in sync to the repeated pattern. She finally acclimated herself to the way his limbs twist and flex and he to hers. Now they move in tandem to a steady rhythm of_ punch, punch, kick, dodge, punch, roll, swipe_.

Hours later once she's run out of steam and starts swaying, Erik ends their bout. This time Kaeha willingly throws herself onto pliant flooring. She aches _everywhere_ but satisfaction soothes the prickling pain in sore muscles. A surprised yelp tears out of her lips when something soft is thrown upon her face.

Kaeha lurches upright into a sitting position, feather-light object sliding into her lap. A small towel with _Xavier _embroidered in copper thread by a corner fills her vision. Erik has a similar one curled around his neck. The brunette hesitantly pinches a corner and slowly lifts it up to eye-level.

_Another random act of kindness? Lehnsherr has lost it._ She grimly muses.

"As a thank you. We'll practice again tomorrow." Erik relays in monotone before stiffly exiting.

Bewildered hazel irises dart back and forth between the fluffy towel and closed door. It takes a few moments for her to absorb the string of abnormal events. Finally, she picks herself up and ambles towards the door while hands mop up lingering beads of sweat. An amused grimace contorts her lips.

"If this is his idea of a 'thank you', he's got a long way to go." Kaeha mutters dryly.

Regardless, fingers stroke the gentle surface in endearing caresses as an unconscious smile bats aside her grimace.

_That _was_ kind of cute though._ She muses, a soft laugh flitting by._  
_

* * *

Glittering heels _click_ across concrete floors in a hushed symphony. Armed men flow past her, separating around her form as though she were a shining rock disrupting a current of black. No one lingered by her side to offer protection. Emma found it amusing that they knew better to charge on than waste their breath.

Enemies only had to get within a ten feet radius of the telepath before crumpling to the floor instantly. Such unprotected and vulnerable minds were easy specks to crush. Ivory skin transforms into dazzling diamonds to rebound the array of bullets fired in her direction.

All it took was a tilt of golden locks and the firing ceased as minds were knocked unconscious. Emma likes the absence of uncouth thoughts. Sniffing demurely as she steps over a fallen man, Emma projects the mental image of a heavily sealed room filled with cowering scientists into Azazel's mind.

He nods and easily snaps the neck of the burly soldier he was grappling with. Manicured fingers lace with his and a blink later they appear inside the vaulted room. Steel blue irises glint in sadistic mirth when men in white coats and pressed suits recoil in horror.

"How pathetic." She sighs, putrid thoughts of abandonment howling against the edges of her mind.

A mad clamor for hidden arms and the locked door occurs. The telepath doesn't move a muscle as Azazel skillfully teleports them around the heavy barrage of drug-encased bullets. Green now decorates the previously bare walls in glowing splatters.

Emma does a quick sweep of their minds and finds the information she needs in one: tranquilizers have been added to the harmful luminescent mixture. Lips curve into a smirk as she easily plants an illusion into erratic minds.

The duo watch as upper officials from the twisted anti-mutant organization fire at each other under the deception that their comrades were the spectating mutants. Emma examines her nails until the final _thud _rings out. Accessing the thrumming mental links connecting their raiding party, she speaks.

_It's done._ The telepath calmly relays as Azazel binds comatose men with rope and handcuffs.

_Great job, Emma. We're on our way. Level 3 is clear._ Moira replies, echoes of acknowledgement trailing behind her.

Emma departs from the mental conversation when the brunette agent methodically allocates her team to take down the remaining men. Now that the students were a part of the ambush force, even a highly guarded meeting like this was easy enough to conquer.

The kids were good. She would never verbally say it but she could acknowledge it in her mind. Their improvement spiked once Charles allowed Erik to partake in the training. It was interesting to see Kaeha and her 'leader' work together as ordained by her fellow telepath.

_Like poetry in motion._ She ponders, lips forming a small smirk.

Pondering whether the energy mutant would be Erik's downfall or savior, Emma flinches in surprise when Azazel grabs her arm. They disappear in a flurry of flames and smoke as Emma reappears by a desolated corner. Her comrade has his arms firmly twisted around a pale neck.

A man clad in a sleet grey suit struggles against the vice grip, raised gun shaking in his hand. Emerald is splattered against the wall behind where she previously stood. Azazel flexes crimson arms twice and the brunette with silver peppering his temples is now dead to the world.

"He shouldn't be left alive." Emma sniffs in disdain.

"That would go against Erik's orders." The teleporter retorts, using a sailor's knot for his binding.

Humming absently, her gaze flickers over the man that tried to assault her. It was odd; she hadn't sensed his mind. As a telepath, any active mind was a beacon of energy that brushed against her consciousness. This person was the unusual exception.

Her initial impression was that he acted as a sponsor for the organization's vile experiments given his polished appearance. Now, with a clear view of his face, she realized otherwise.

This is the man that sat at the head of the table. He was the only one that glared at the duo with boiling hatred than panic when they first arrived. Every action he made exuded calmness and precision.

_He's dangerous._ Emma concludes warily.

The door swings open and a string of agents fronted by Alex enter. She steps back as robust men easily haul away bound prisoners as though they weighed nothing. Mutely reaching for Azazel's hand, concrete floors fall away before uneven forest grounds appear beneath her feet. Army vehicles are strewn about, Sean waving brightly to direct the duo to his. Walking over, a niggling thought plagues Emma all through the ride back.

The man looked familiar.

* * *

**_Usual Mini Rant:  
_**

**_Finally, a little action! :D Bonding time is great and all but it's high time to move forward. The _****_Erik and Kaeha_** relationship is building up. I know it's not pure romance and burning glances but neither seem inclined to do so. xD  


**_At least a major blow to the organization has been dealt - yay for Charles's kiddies! Now the plot thickens bwahahaha! Well, not really, but I can try. *grins sheepishly*_**


	11. Unexpected

Cuffed loafers tear across carpeted floors before burning a trail through manicured lawns. Hank waves frantically and breathes in relief when Kaeha spots him. Confusion flickers across her face before she resumes her neutral mask. Leaving the students with a reading assignment, she discreetly hurries over to his side.

Fingers touch his arm and Hank feels his bubbling anxiety dampen from an energy transfer. A watery smile is flashed in gratitude before he steps back with the brunette in tow. They stand just outside the students' hearing range. His gaze flickers to the glass doors before settling on her.

"It's them." The medic mutters in despair.

Her grip tightens and Hank can practically feel the eye roll she withheld. The duo exit the sunny grounds Kaeha preferred to use over classrooms and brisk walk towards Charles's study. Hank winces when raised voices filter through heavy doors and echo down corridors in muffled tones. Concern ebbs into his veins when Charles's usual mental presence is absent. They exchange a nod before nudging the door open.

Instincts catapult him to the right with Kaeha tucked against his side protectively. A heavy volume careens through their initial spot and rams into the corridor wall with a resounding _boom_. Glancing up, he sees Charles livid and white-knuckled as he clutches his table and glares fiercely.

Erik is on the other end of the room, annoyance contorting his face as books adorned with ornate metal edges whirl around him. They mirror the one spinning outside on the corridor floor.

"They are humans, Erik! You can't just harm them as you wish!" Charles protests, scathing words flung at the taller man.

"These _humans _tormented our brothers and sisters. _Where was their mercy then?_" The mental bender hisses.

Gently helping the brunette to her feet, Hank stifles a sigh. Charles and Erik have been at this 'discussion' for an hour ever since Moira checked in to provide an update. Apparently, CIA gave the first swing at interrogating the captives to the mutants due to the atrocities. Clearly, the duo had differing opinions on handling it.

Erik felt they should extract every piece of information from the prisoners regardless of the consequences. On the other hand, Charles approved of an aggressive approach if need be but without causing excessive harm.

The medic had tried to play mediator beforehand but that attempt crashed and burned spectacularly. The only other solution he could think of was Kaeha. Lately, where Charles's words failed to reach Erik, Kaeha's did. She alternated between the two and negotiated compromises the former friends could grudgingly accept.

_You're up._ Hank whispers, projecting the thought towards her.

Lips purse in a sharp exhale as she nods in acknowledgement. Determined hazel irises stare at Erik while her hand crackles and the air around Hank shifts. Awe fills his gaze when the air solidifies around him like a protective barrier. Wayward books harmlessly bounce off of the dense surface even when Kaeha steps beyond it. Hank watches as the slender woman easily waves through novels and journals that narrowly sail by.

Despite trusting the energy mutant completely, anxiety still prickles down his spine when she heads for Erik. Hank didn't think he would be the best choice given how angry he must be to explode in such a manner. His worries flickers out like a dying flame once Kaeha reaches her target though.

Hank expected her to talk Erik down with infallible logic, as she always did. Instead, her hand rears back before she unexpectedly slams her fist into his angular jaw. Sparks of raw energy flit through the air from bent fingers. The taller man crumples to the floor, crashing heavily on his side. Charles mirrors the bewildered expression Hank has as Kaeha crosses her arms and glares down at a stunned Erik.

"Lehnsherr, _out_." Kaeha growls.

Defiant fire flickers back into his eyes until she snatches a book that was hovering hesitantly in the air. Erik starts in surprise before realization sinks in as dark eyes survey the room. The damaged sight that greets him silences any future protests.

Bronzed fingers wave sharply and Hank's hand passes through thin air once more. Her gaze shifts over to him before tilting her head towards Charles with her chin. The medic snaps to attention and darts over to the telepath's side. Tense shoulders relax under his restraining hand as Charles slowly stops bristling.

Kaeha leans over to grasp a wiry arm and easily lifts Erik onto his feet. Sparing a single backwards glance, he numbly trails after the energy user. Heavy oak creaks as the door slides shuts behind them. Charles slumps against his chair wearily after the departure.

"He brings the worst out of me." He whispers, elbows propped on the table and eyes buried against laced fingers.

"The feeling is mutual, I think." Hank mutters wryly.

Thin lips release a bark of derisive laughter at the comment. Inhaling deeply thrice, Charles reclines back into his chair and stares at the door. An amused smile sweeps across his face as fingers touch the back of his neck in vague guilt.

"She handled him well." The telepath remarks.

"For now." Hank agrees with a brisk nod.

_Good luck._ They murmur in unison.

* * *

Long limbs are elegantly coiled atop the couch as Erik gazes out the tall window. To those that didn't know him better, he appeared emotionless. To those that did know him better, Erik is morose and contrite. Kaeha blinks at the realization that she _did_ know him well enough to decipher his cryptic emotions.

_Another time and place for that, Malik._ Her wise mental voice warns.

She heeds the advice and tucks that little dilemma into an imaginary drawer. Fingers tightly wrap soft cloth around the ice cubes she pilfered from the kitchen fridge before resting it against his jawline. Angry purple in varying shades had blossomed across pale skin from the impact of her energy-powered punch.

Kaeha should feel sorry but she isn't. She knows it was necessary. Physical contact was the only method to get through the haze of rage when Erik lost control of his emotions to that degree. Thankfully, those moments are extremely rare if ever.

His head tilts in a sharp nod before grasping the makeshift ice pack. She curls herself atop the sturdy coffee table and observes him as he nurses his wound. The energy mutant felt no hostility or resentment resonating from her companion. It would appear that Erik didn't perceive her interruption as a hindrance. Allowing a few moments for him to wallow in misery, she finally ends the silence.

"After dinner, you're going to talk to Charles." She orders evenly.

Icy blue irises slide towards her in a reproachful glare. Kaeha meets his intense gaze head on, arching an eyebrow in a challenge to question her. Their staring match drags on for long seconds before Erik finally averts his eyes. They bore a hole into the floor as he clutches the ice pack tighter. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet and brittle and lacking his usual confidence.

"Have I ruined things again?" Erik murmurs.

Kaeha assumes he directed the question to himself until he drags his gaze back up to her. Instinctively, her slouching spine straightens. The gravity of his inquiry is impossible to miss. Words cluster in her mind in a mad dash to be first but she calmly sorts through the mess and carefully selects a few.

"No. You've both had similar arguments before. This is no different." Kaeha huffs logically.

Her voice left no room for arguments as Erik quietly deliberates her words. Triumph surges through her veins when the lingering doubt that clung to his gaze fades. Unease had prickled along her skin when he lacked his typical fire. Erik looking beaten and worn down disturbed her greatly for reasons she'd rather ignore.

"Charles is right; senseless violence won't fare well, at least not now. We'll talk." Erik suddenly announces.

Kaeha blinks in surprise, not expecting such an easy victory but hastily nods. She would be the last person to refute an effortless win over the stubborn man. No other words of reassurance are uttered after that. Kaeha simply didn't need to. She had miraculously fixed the dent in Erik's composure and they both know he would be alright after a few hours of solitude.

Reaching over to pat his shoulder as a sign of farewell, she slides onto her feet and heads for the door. Erik barely notices, already brooding about methods to approach Charles in an amicable fashion. The energy user is nearly past the threshold when a thought stops her just shy of the entrance.

"I want to be there. The interrogation, I mean." She whispers.

Even without turning, Kaeha feels intense irises boring a hole into her stiff spine. Calm energy spikes into the familiar sensation of trembling curiosity before settling back into steady waves of thought. The brunette suppresses the wild urge to fiddle with her collar or trace circles on the carpet with bare toes.

"This is part of your mission." Erik finally replies.

A flinch ripples across her slender form and she mentally swears at the dead giveaway. It takes her longer than she cares for to tamp down the flash of anxiety. Throughout her entire stay, her comrades wisely skirted around inquires of her past or current goals. They knew she had a mission to achieve; it was impossible to not conclude such with how hard Kaeha trains.

_Of course Lehnsherr would figure it out._ She groans.

Derisive chuckles echo behind her from the prolonged silence. Erik clearly senses her discomfort at the topic which only amuses him further. Lips seal shut to hold back a bitingly sarcastic remark or a hostile snarl. It's astounds her constantly how this one man utterly infuriates and yet fascinates her.

"I never once considered you not being there." He comments almost absently.

For a moment, Kaeha freezes in surprise. As always, Erik never answered her the way she expected him to. The implication that he always assumed she would be present for the questioning revealed the amount of trust Erik carried for her. Charles used to be the only one to garner such an absolute thought.

"T-Thank you." She splutters in a shaky voice.

Her only response is a noncommittal hum from the ruminating man. Realizing it's a chance to escape, she barks out a quick goodbye before dashing out of the room. Her steps are quick and brisk as she heads back to the courtyard. After all, she did have the abandoned literature class to return to.

As she tries to maintain a steady pace instead of a mad run, Kaeha tries to ignore the brief jolt of delight she sensed from Erik at her words of gratitude. Well, that and the abrupt warmth bubbling through her veins from the mental bender's appreciation of something so trivial.

_He'll be the death of me. _Kaeha mutters darkly.

* * *

_**Usual Mini Rant:**_

_**Oh mein gott, finally an update. Bless you lot for being so patient. C': Anyway, I took a slight step back from 'full steam ahead'. I just realized that the end is approaching. :O**_

_**I expect this little ficlet wrapping up within another five chapters perhaps? Hopefully Erik and Kaeha have formed a solid relationship by then. Thank you for reading and do drop a review! :D**_


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